This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
As I watched him on the stage, my hands were clinched in fists of rage. No angel born in hell, could break that Satan's spell.
Devoid of all romance, the music plays and everyone must dance. I'm bowing out.
Hills of forest green where the mountains touch the sky, a dream come true, I'll live there til I die.
And as the players tried to take the field, the Marching Band refused to yield.
Starry, starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze, swirling clouds in violet haze reflect Vincent's eyes of china blue.